


Lost Warrior

by skargasm



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm





	Lost Warrior

**Title:**  → Lost Warrior   
**Rating:**  → R  
 **Pairing(s):**  → Spike/Xander   
**Beta(s):**  → Unbeta'd but proofread  
 **Prompt(s):**  → Prompt #300 : Decay @ & Prompt : Fairy tales/Folklore @ **Disclaimer:**  → Mutant Enemy & Joss own them – I just make them do dirty/bad/wrong then give them back!  
 **Graphic:** → Banner by **Word count:** → 1255  
 **Contains:**  (highlight to reveal) Main Character Deaths  
 **Summary:**  → They had walked the long dusty road, together......

* * *

”Cold as brass monkeys in here Pet. I shoulda put a few blankets up, blocked the worst of the drafts.” Shrugging off his backpack, Spike carefully sealed the door, wedging the usual collection of chairs and sticks of furniture against it to act as an early warning system. “You need to eat, luv, not gonna stay big and strong if you don't eat. I got this.” He held up his prize, absentmindedly licking the blood from his fingers as it dripped down. “Had to fight off a good few demons for it, mind, but it was worth it. Not had a chunk of stuff like this in a long time. In fact, when was the last time you had fresh meat, eh?”

Strolling into the kitchen area, he shrugged off his duster, rummaging through the numerous pockets before pulling out his pouch of tobacco and papers. He rolled a thin cigarette, stashed the makings back in his pocket before resting the coat over a stack of crates. Popping the cigarette into his mouth, he set up the small table top burner they had manage to scavenge so long ago. Determined not to use up one of their increasingly small supply of matches, he grabbed the flint and managed to strike a spark almost immediately. Lighting the little burner, he quickly set a small pot of water on top. Risking singeing his eyebrows, he leaned over and lit his dangling cigarette from the open flame.

“Sorry about the smoke luv. Daren't open a window though – you never know who's scouting about and this place is a nice one. Don't want to lose it because we're fighting off the hordes do we?” Efficiently draining the rest of the blood into another saucepan, he began to chop the meat into bite size chunks. “Not sure what meat this is so better not examine it too closely. Know it's not dog though – not after the last time eh?” He leaned over and sniffed the bloody meat. “Not seen a family pet in a long while now – guess they're all gone. Doesn't matter – as long as it's edible right?” Adding the chunks of meat to the simmering water, he rooted around in their vegetable basket before adding a small collection of vegetables, followed by precious herbs. “It'll make a nice stew – warm you right up it will. Know you miss the sun. Strangely enough, I do too. That red sun is all well and good but it's not the same is it?” Spike sighed, remembering the huge waves of excitement the red sun had originally generated. For the first time in decades, centuries for some vampires, they could go out in the 'daylight' without being harmed. It had been the turning point in the demon/human war when the High Lord's Mage had managed to do what he had claimed he could: bring an end to the human's daylight and set creatures of the night free to roam whenever they wanted. The humans, losing their one true advantage, were quickly overwhelmed by sheer numbers and it was a foregone conclusion that the demons would win.

But what exactly had the demons won? Apart from Hell on Earth? They quickly stripped the surface, killing without plan or thought until they were where they were today. The earth was a wasteland; humans rare and exotic pets, with demons fighting amongst themselves for territory and possessions. And as always happened when demons were completely in charge, all of the light went out in the world. 

Spike had to admit to a sense of pride – the Slayer, Red and the Watcher had all tried and they had been the leaders of the resistance. For a while, combined with Angel and his merry band of useless wankers, they had made a difference. Almost turned the tide. 

But once again, the High Lord's Mage had proven his worth – one spell to lose a soul and Buffy's insistence that they trust Angel with their lives had actually cost them their lives, the resistance decimated from the inside. It had been pure luck that he and Xander had not been there, that and demonic instinct warning him that Sunnydale wasn't safe anymore. Angelus was anxious to lay hands on his errant childe and the White Knight, and they had been hunted from place to place, exhaustion dogging their every step. Just the two of them – to outsiders, merely a vampire and his pet but in reality survivors of the resistance who became friends, who slowly became lovers. 

Spike couldn't even remember how long they had been together now – growing proficient at keeping one step ahead of Angelus, moving through the wasteland like in the stories where the hero went off to find himself, or in their case and circumstances more like Mad Max. And they were happy, or at least they had been until Xander was attacked by that Decalcifus demon which had been determined to make him it's own. It had been a vicious, nasty fight with Spike barely managing to hold the damned thing on the ground while Xander shot off it's head. They had rifled through it's belongings, crowing at finding a stash of matches, as well as an assortment of other items that might prove useful for bartering. That had been over a month ago, and they had been holed up here ever since. 

Spike cursed his lack of knowledge and no longer having access to Giles' books. Perhaps if he'd still had them, he would have been able to do something about the bite they discovered on Xander's shoulder. But they didn't and by the time Spike found a witch who was able and willing to diagnose for a large fee, it had been too late. The bite of the Decalcifus demon was fatal – a slow, painful death as the insides decayed and liquified. Incurable if left too long from the initial bite, and they'd been warned about risking a turning unless Spike wanted a mindless zombie-like creature with half a brain and crumbling insides for a childe. A gurgling rattle caught his attention, and rubbing the glowing stub of the cigarette against the sole of his shoe and pocketing the stump, he moved quickly to Xander's side. 

Automatically wiping away the thin line of drool that was making it's way down Xander's chin, he gently stroked the sweaty hair back from his forehead, eyes catching on the drops of blood collecting in Xander's ears. 

“Nearly ready luv, then you'll have a feast fit for a road warrior.”

“Spp...i....ke....”

“Yeah, luv?”

“Kill me........ pl..ea.....se....” 

“Xander - “

“Pl...e..as...e....... hur...t.s......” Crawling onto the seat next to Xander, Spike pressed himself against the shivering form of his lover. “Prom …. is.....ed....”

“I know – I know, it's just......”

“Don't …....... want.... to lea....ve...... you alo....ne but.....”

“But I know. You've been in so much pain, luv, been so strong. Come here, you snuggle close to your Spike. Gonna tell you a story about a white knight and a dark knight, traveling the roads together. Started off so tough it did, with demons taking over but they were wily and strong, escaping the clutches of the vampire with the stupidest hair ever over and over again, exploring an' - “ Ignoring the tears in his eyes and the croakiness of his voice as he recounted their numerous adventures, Spike wrapped his arm around Xander's waist as he covered the beloved face with a cushion and gently pressed down....

* * *

fin

* * *


End file.
